


Switch

by Liu



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Foster Care, Gen, Growing Up Together, Kid Fic, M/M, Roommates, School, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, confused Len
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 23:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5311130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liu/pseuds/Liu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Len and Lisa have settled in Joe West's foster care. Months later, Barry Allen arrives, and Len is forced to share a room with him... which turns out to be less of a hardship than he would've thought. At first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Switch

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous on tumblr requested a friendzoned!Barry who has been Len's friend for years, and Len knows that Barry's in love with him. Later Len has to move out and Barry tells him "I would be better if I could start getting over you, but I just can't."
> 
> So yeah, this happened. XD

“Len, this is Barry,” Joe says and gently pushes a skinny boy forward. Len looks up from his book with a raised eyebrow, throws his feet off the bed to the ground, and his stomach churns.

“Hey,” he mumbles, because he remembers how it feels to come to a strange place; except it’s not the same, because he’s always had Lisa. This kid’s alone, younger than Len but not quite as young as his sister, bleary-eyed and pale and fidgety. Something in Len wants to reach out, but the seven months he’s been here aren’t quite enough to erase and rewrite his priorities.

“Are you sending us away?” he asks bluntly, glaring at Joe. The man’s been decent to them so far, more than decent actually, but Len’s been burned before, on their epic road-trip through the foster homes of three states, so he tries to hold on to his mistrust, even though Joe West is making that kinda hard.

He looks at Len with that pitying, kind grimace that Len both hates and appreciates, and shakes his head.

“No one’s going anywhere. Barry’s gonna stay with us. I thought you boys could share the room?”

And there it is, the catch Len’s been waiting for. He manages to stop his hands from curling into fists, but his shoulders go rigid with how much he does  _not_ want to room with the new kid. It’s nothing personal against the boy, even though he looks like the type to scream at night… but having ‘Barry’ in his room would mean not having  _Lisa_  there, and Len’s stomach rolls: anxiety and displeasure and helplessness, because he’s not exactly in any position to make demands.

Joe pats Barry’s shoulder a little and then walks into the room, sitting down on Len’s bed. Len forces himself not to pull away.

“Look,” Joe starts, voice quiet and calm in a way that sets Len’s teeth on edge because he’s still not used to it and he hates that he isn’t, “I’m not going to force you, kid. And I’m not going to send you away if you say ‘no’ once in a while. But Barry needs our help now… and Lisa’s been spending a lot of time with Iris lately.”

Len knows that – Lisa’s practically hanging onto Iris’ every word and abandoning him more and more often in favor of giggling with her new friend. Len never stops her: he’s glad that she’s getting along with their foster dad’s daughter, because that means there’s one less reason for them to be kicked out eventually. But he feels lonely lately, and the anxiety that grips his chest whenever Lisa’s too far away or out of his sight is difficult to overcome.

Joe’s hand lands on his back, gentle and reassuring – Len’s proud of himself that he doesn’t flinch at the gesture anymore. Much.

“Lisa’s gonna be just across the hall. Right there,” Joe waves towards the door. Behind Barry’s thin, hunched shoulders, the door to Iris’ room is visible, decorated with colorful butterflies. “Why don’t you give it a try? A week, let’s say… and if it doesn’t work, we’ll figure something out. How’s that sound?”

Len thinks it sounds like bullshit: the house only has three bedrooms, which means that either one of them is gonna be sleeping on the couch downstairs, or Iris is gonna have to sleep in her dad’s room, and Len doesn’t think Joe would compromise his own daughter’s comfort for the sake of the strays he took in. He feels like he’s agreeing to death penalty, but he nods: having Lisa in another room is a hell of a better deal than having her out of his reach altogether. He still remembers the two weeks when someone tried to adopt her – he thought he would never see her again.

“Good,” Joe smiles at him, like he’s proud: like Len’s the one making good decisions here instead of being backed into a corner by the situation. Len suppresses the urge to lash out, to say something cruel or hateful; he kind of likes it here, Joe’s not an asshole, doesn’t yell at them or get frustrated when Lisa flips out.

The kid’s got a suitcase, like he’s some sort of an orphan from a history movie. Joe helps him drag it inside, and the first thing the kid unpacks is a picture. There’s a smiling woman and a man hugging her close, and a boy who looks like a younger version of Barry.

The kid turns to him and the expression on his face is so determined that Len would take a step back if he wasn’t still sitting on his bed. Barry’s probably eleven or twelve, but he looks older when he stares like that, heat in his eyes even though they’re red-rimmed and puffy.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna be here long,” he says and sits on his bed ( _Lisa’s bed_ ) and it makes him look smaller. “My dad’s gonna come back for me.”

Len’s heard that before, in several other foster homes, from several other kids with the same manic expression on their faces, so he just nods and refrains from any comments. After all, if that happens, Lisa can come back to this room, so he’s not exactly opposed to the idea.

……….

Barry’s actually a pretty quiet roommate. Len wakes up only once or twice every night, disturbed by the feeling of a presence that is not  _Lisa_ , but he slowly gets used to the rhythm of Barry’s breathing, to the way he shifts on his bed across the room. After the first week, Joe takes Len aside and asks him if he’s okay with Barry staying in his room – Len can’t say he’s one-hundred-percent content, but he realizes that Lisa deserves the chance to form bonds with people other than him, to live as much of a normal life as she can, and hovering over her won’t help the girl in the long run. So he swallows his discomfort and nods. Joe smiles at him again and pats his shoulder, and Len is so over relying on adults’ judgment of him, but it still feels kind of nice.

Shit hits the fan eight weeks after Barry first arrives. Len eavesdrops on Joe’s phone call and he understands that it’s got something to do with Barry’s dad and prison: Len’s not inclined to be sympathetic to criminal fathers, but he does feel bad for the kid who cries himself to sleep that night. Or rather, cries  _instead_ of sleep; Barry’s doing his best to swallow the sobs and muffle the sniffs, but Len’s always been extremely sensitive to the tiniest noises and he ends up not sleeping either. It must be past midnight when he decides that if he’s not sleeping, he could as well help the kid who’s probably his permanent roommate now. Len throws the covers off and lets his feet connect with the carpet, then pads across the room to Barry’s bed, sitting on the very edge tentatively.

Barry sniffles, startled, and turns to face Len – his face is red and shiny with all those tears, and he just looks fucking miserable.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, loud and high-pitched. “I’ll… keep it down. Sorry.”

Len just shakes his head and pushes Barry’s arm a little – the kid moves over automatically, before he even processes the request. Len lets his head drop onto the pillow and settles his arm over Barry’s chest, heaving with barely suppressed sobs under Len’s touch. He’s got experience with crying people, because of Lisa, and he doesn’t think that it’s much different with Barry, who’s not his sibling, a boy, and a couple years older than Lisa. Grief is grief, whether it’s about a dad in prison or a dad who’s a total asshole. Lisa’s also been doing pretty well lately, and while Len’s glad, it also kind of terrifies him, how little she actually needs him these days. Maybe it’s selfish of him to want to be needed, to worm himself into Barry’s life like this-

Len’s thoughts are cut off when the kid twists under his arm and buries his wet face in Len’s shirt. The fabric soaks up his tears as he sobs in earnest, and Len lets him ride the wave of sadness out.

In the end, they both fall asleep.

………………

It’s summer break, and Len’s restless. He hasn’t made many friends at school he would care to hang out with, and Lisa’s always busy running around with Iris, joining clubs and cliques and obsessing over one singer or another. It’s like he’s losing her, and he knows he should be happy she’s finally able to spread her wings, figure out what she likes without the constant fear of being yelled at or punished for it… but Len himself feels like he’s drifting in space, waiting for something to happen.

Barry’s the same, by the look of it: he reads almost as much as Len, but there’s only so many stories one can handle when the sun’s up high, making the air difficult to breathe and every shirt damp with sweat in a matter of minutes.

Two weeks in, and Len’s going crazy. He lets his book drop (carefully, because people who destroy books should have a separate circle in hell) and turns his head to the bed across the room.

  
“Hey,” he calls out. Barry glances at him with curiosity – he’s never annoyed when someone interrupts him, unlike Len who’s always ready to tear heads off.

“Yeah?”

“Wanna go for a swim?”

Barry frowns. Len can practically see him mull the idea over.

“Where? I don’t think we’re allowed to go to the pool alone,” he shrugs. Len sometimes forgets he’s so much younger – not in years, he’s twelve to Len’s thirteen and a half, but in his way of thinking. Barry still believes all rules exist for a reason. Len is prepared to help him unlearn that unfortunate lie.

“There’s a pool at the Wilsons’ house, two blocks down from here. And they’re gone for the month.”

He knows because Lee Wilson is his classmate and he boasted for the whole damn semester about how his family has a fucking lakehouse now. Len really won’t have any moral qualms about peeing in Lee’s pool water.

Barry’s eyes go comically wide and red stains his cheeks.

“But- we can’t!” he hisses and looks around, as if he expects Joe to suddenly jump out of the closet. “That wouldn’t be right!”

“It’s well over a hundred degrees today,” Len scoffs. “I’m gonna go for a swim. You can sit here and wait to rat me out, or you can come. I don’t care.”

He kinda does, but he’s not about to tell Barry. Swimming’s always more fun when there’s someone else there to splash around with, and even if Len mostly wants to cool off now, chasing away the loneliness would be good, too.

“What if we get caught?” Barry mutters anxiously. Len notices the ‘we’ and smirks:

“We won’t. They’re gone, I promise.”

Barry looks like he’s about to commit a felony instead of just swimming in a pool, but he nods anyway, the red still high on his cheeks.

  
“Alright.”

…………………

“You should come run with me,” Len says one day as he’s tying the shoelaces on his sneakers. Barry’s been looking tense ever since school started – Len though he was getting a bit better towards the end of the summer break, but it seems school brings back the bad stuff, because Barry keeps staring into nowhere and flinches more than before at the slightest noise from downstairs, like he expects the house to get robbed at every moment.

Barry gives him a scowl.

“I don’t run.”

Len rolls his eyes at that. “Everybody runs. C’mon.”

“Well, I’m bad at it,” Barry counters and Len sighs, stalking to his bed and plucking his book out of his hands.

“It’s not a competition. But it helps.”

Barry blinks at him, and Len sighs. He doesn’t know how to explain it properly, but…

“Whatever you want to run from. Like… whatever you want to leave behind. If you actually run, it helps. Clears your head.”

Barry frowns at him for a moment, but he’s agreed to much worse over the course of the summer, going back to the Wilsons’ backyard to shamelessly use their pool (even though Barry always looked ready to throw up from the nerves), walking around with Len, using up all of their pocket money for ice-cream, sneaking into the movie theatre for an R-rated movie (which ended up sucking, but it was the thrill of watching something they weren’t supposed to that helped get over the actual boredom of it).

“Come,” Len swats at Barry’s knee and walks out of the room. Sure enough, the kid follows, reluctantly and with a frown, but he does. Len starts a slow jog once they’re outside, and they have to stop a couple of times because Barry’s breathing all wrong, but in the end, they settle into a rhythm. It doesn’t really wear Len out, because he’s used to a much more punishing pace, pushing himself past his limits just to feel the ache of it all… but it’s pleasant enough, and Barry agrees to join Len again sometime, even if he looks ready to pass out when they get home.

…………………..

Len doesn’t mind when Barry comes to sit with him during lunch. Middle school sucks, and Len’s made a few casual acquaintances, but not that many actual _friends_ , so he’s pretty much free of the usual hierarchy rules and he lets Barry sit with him. He himself feels more comfortable with someone who knows what it feels like, to have a home that feels precarious and temporary at the best of times – there are no stupid jokes or a bunch of questions for him, and Barry’s rambling about the science classes is surprisingly fun to listen to.

………………..

Barry stares into his cereal like the milk has done something to offend him. Len kicks at his ankle lightly under the table.

“Don’t pout,” he says, and Barry turns up a spectacular puffy-cheeked grimace on him.

“I’m not pouting.”

“I can see that,” Len chuckles. He’s a little bit nervous himself: he’s starting high school today, and he’s grown accustomed to sitting at lunch with Barry in the past two years. It’s gonna be weird, not having the kid around all the time, especially if he’s already acting like the world is being unfair.

“It’s just one year,” he tells Barry. “I’ll find us the best table by then.”

………………….

Len’s growth spur leaves him a little lanky, long-limbed and slender, but his shoulders broaden when he joins the hockey team, and somehow, his attitude of ‘I won’t talk to anyone I don’t  _have_  to talk to’ translates to ‘cool’ in high-school environment, so he doesn’t really have to deal with much shit from anyone.

(Maybe, just maybe, it helps when he effortlessly takes down the first junior giving him grief – he doesn’t draw blood, he just sits on the guy’s back and pulls his arm back until the jerk whines for mercy.)

He’s got a reputation of ‘dangerous, approach with care’ by the time next year rolls around. He’s not exactly sure how it blew out of proportion, but he’s alright with that – at least, when Barry’s not looking around the cafeteria with wide eyes and then blinking at Len.

“Are people actually  _afraid_  of you?” the kid asks and munches on his chips. Len rolls his eyes.

“No.”

  
“I think they kinda are. Maybe I should tell them about that time you were upset because Iris ate your cupcake,” Barry giggles. Len flicks a bit of salad in his direction, which Barry deflects with a giggle.

“Or about that time you cried at the movies.”

“The dog died,” Len grumbles and reaches over to pick tomatoes out of Barry’s meal.

  
“Uh-huh… should I tell them about your favorite Elsa T-shirt?”

“Kid, you’re assuming I care two shits about my reputation,” Len grunts, and Barry’s eyes widen in absolute joy:

“Oooh, maybe I’ll mention to Joe that you’re saying ‘shit’.”

Joe has some very old-fashioned ideas about language appropriate for teenagers. Len frowns.

  
“You just said shit too.”

“You just said it again!”

Barry’s delight bubbles up and the kid actually giggles. Len can’t help the smile that tugs up the corners of his own mouth.

…………………….

In the end, it helps that people are a little scared of him. It helps, because they’re definitely not scared of Barry, who keeps asking questions in classes and always has his homework ready, who revels in all knowledge and is immensely passionate about science, who blows up his science-fair project exactly because it’s a little  _too_  ambitious for a first-year.

When a group of bullies chases after Barry and makes him fall and scrape his elbow and chin, it’s the first time Len gets sent to the principal’s office. His knuckles are bruised and bleeding, but he doesn’t regret it at all. He acts contrite so as to get off the hook easy, but he’s still pretty surprised when Joe stops the car in front of their house and reaches over to clap a hand on Len’s shoulder.

“Violence is never the final answer,” he says, and Len scowls through the windshield at the garage door, sure that a lecture is gonna follow. Joe’s been too quiet in the principal’s office, even though they agreed that Len would only get suspended for one day.

  
“I’m proud of you,” Joe adds and gets out of the car before Len can process it and start breathing again.

……………………….

Len has no love for Valentine’s Day. It feels like people are expecting something from him, like he  _should_  ask someone out or gush about how hot others are, and he’s got absolutely zero interest in all that. The other hockey players drop a few obligatory ‘you’re gay’ jokes his way, but when they see him just shrug it off, they drop the issue. There’s rumors here and there all through Len’s sophomore year, but he doesn’t pay them much attention: if people wanna think he’s gay, that’s their problem, not his.

In all honesty, Len’s not sure  _what_  he is. He’s seventeen, but he doesn’t exactly get mindlessly horny at the sight of a girl’s cleavage, like some of his teammates do; he’s showering several times a week with some of the hottest guys at school and he could very well be showering next to a couple of dinosaurs, for all his dick basically ignores the presence of other naked people. He doesn’t really care – he’s got Lisa to take care of, to talk to, he’s got boxing practice with Joe and schoolwork, and then there’s times when he needs to prove to Barry that there’s _still_  no way the kid will ever beat him at video games… and frankly, Len doesn’t understand how people even find the  _time_  to think about dating and kissing and all that other stuff.

It only really bothers him around Valentine’s Day, when everybody is pairing up and running around school a little manically, girls giggling in groups, boys travelling in leering packs, and Len feels like an alien who landed on the wrong planet.

The worst thing is the actual day: he opens his locker only to find it stuffed with various notes and letters. He reads them all, because it feels rude to just throw them away, but he’s really not interested in all the anonymous ‘I think you’re so hot’ and ‘I would totally fuck you’ – or even worse, the  _poetry_.

His heart stops, though, when he opens the last note, a letter in an actual envelope, a little bit wrinkled around the edges as if the sender was wringing it in their hands before pushing it into Len’s locker – but it’s not the paper that strikes Len the most. No – it’s the handwriting. He knows the way the letters curve and slant, the way the ‘t’s are crossed and how some of the dots on ‘i’s aren’t there. He’s been staring at that same handwriting for the past three years, helping Barry with his homework.

_~~Dear~~  Len,_

_I think you’re great. You’re smart and funny and hot and you can be ~~a jerk~~ sarcastic but I like that too. I like you. A lot. And I will probably never tell you, but I think about you all the time. I think about you when I wake up, and when I go to sleep, and when you smile, I just want to  ~~kis~~ always be there to see it happen again. I just thought you should know that someone likes you. Even though a lot of people do, and you don’t see it._

Len’s stomach does weird flips as he reads the words, and finally it settles on mild unease. He likes Barry, he really does – but his feelings run along the same track as they do for Lisa. That, in itself, is startling: Len never would’ve thought, on that first day when Barry was pushed into his room, that he would feel so strongly about the kid, that he’d consider him not only his best friend, but his _brother_.

But this… this complicates things. He wonders if he should say anything; his first instinct is to shove the letter to the bottom of his bedside drawer and never speak of it. But Barry knows he sent it – Barry feels something for Len, something that doesn’t sound like friendship, and Len doesn’t think it would be fair to just avoid talking about it, even if Barry didn’t sign his name, and thus likely didn’t expect a response.

He’s still mulling it over when Barry gets home from his science club activities. The problem kind of solves itself, or at least takes the decision on whether or not to talk about it out of Len’s hands. Barry takes one look at the letter still dangling from Len’s fingers and he goes beet red: even if Len didn’t already recognize the handwriting (and the way Barry puts words together), that blush alone would betray Barry’s authorship.

The kid turns to leave. He’s not really a kid anymore, though, is he, almost as tall as Len and considerably leaner, his face losing the child-like roundness and revealing angles that weren’t there just a year or two ago.

“Barry,” Len mutters – his foster brother goes still, probably still considering fleeing. “C’mere. We have to talk.”

“We really don’t,” Barry groans, but walks over to Len’s bed and flops down on the mattress, as far from Len as he can possibly be without climbing up the wall. Len licks his lips and wonders how to say it – he opens his mouth, but Barry interrupts him before he can even start.

“You don’t have to say anything. It was stupid, spur-of-a-moment thing, I’m so sorry – I didn’t realize you’d…  _know_. That it was me.”

He’s rambling and blushing and he looks close to hyperventilating, and at the same time, he just looks tired and defeated and Len wishes he could give him a different answer. But he can still see the scratched-out start of a ‘kiss’ in that letter, and he knows it wouldn’t be fair to Barry to pretend that he can give him what Barry wants.

With a self-deprecating chuckle, Barry looks at him, and his eyes are a little wet.

“You don’t even like boys, do you.”

All Len can do is shake his head slowly. Something in him pipes up that he should tell Barry he doesn’t exactly like girls either, but that’s just weird – everybody has to like  _someone_ , and all Len knows that he wishes it could be Barry for him. But that’s not gonna help here, at all. He can’t just magically  _wish_ himself to like Barry that way, no matter how much he’d like to.

Barry laughs again, and Len wants to hug him, because it catches in the back of the kid’s throat like a sob.

“I’m sorry,” he says, feeling a bit helpless – Barry glances up at him and frowns.

  
“It’s not your fault.  _I’m_  sorry. I shouldn’t have written that… now I screwed everything up,” he groans, and Len flinches at the thought of that.

  
“You didn’t screw anything up,” he says resolutely, and Barry looks up again, doubt in his eyes.

  
“Everything will just be awkward now. You’ll avoid me, and I’ll try not to look at you so you won’t be uncomfortable – and I swear I didn’t peep when you were changing or anything!”

He looks so panicked that Len just can’t help himself. He slides over on the bed and draws Barry into a one-armed hug – the kid’s tense against his side, but then he exhales and just deflates, melding into Len’s side and burying his face in Len’s shoulder.

  
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles again. “I don’t wanna lose you, Len.”

“You’re not losing me,” Len promises and resists the urge to kiss Barry’s forehead like he’d done a couple times before. He has to figure out boundaries, for both of them, but he shares the sentiment. He doesn’t want to lose Barry, almost as much as he doesn’t want to lose Lisa, and the thought would be a shock to his system if it wasn’t ingrained in his everyday life for years.

…………………….

“Are you sure you don’t wanna change your mind?” Shawna asks when Len appears on her doorstep. She’s gorgeous – she always is, but with her hair done up and pinned with little sparkly stones, with her shimmery dress setting off her eyes and her smile, she’s perfect. Len’s heart aches a little as he wonders why he can’t want  _this_ , her, someone like her. Anyone.

He shakes his head – they’ve been over this, time and time again. Shawna is one of his few friends at school, head cheerleader who wants to be a doctor and regularly makes guys cry with her sharp tongue. She’s the only one who knows about Barry’s feelings for him: Len got a little too drunk on a party one time and let it slip, without any names, just the general problem about someone liking him and him not wanting to hurt that person… he doesn’t exactly regret telling Shawna because she’s offered a lot of support, even asked Len to prom and declared it non-negotiable because she didn’t want to go with someone who would slobber all over her neck in the first hour and the spend the rest of the night trying to get under her skirt (and then likely throwing up on her shoes). Len’s still not sure if she did that for him or mostly for herself, but it doesn’t much matter, seeing as it worked out for both of them.

He still can’t shake Barry’s eyes, following him out of the house, trailing over the lines of his tux with wistful want. Barry’s been trying to keep his feelings to himself, and he certainly never pressured Len into anything, but he’s awful at hiding his emotions, and it’s gotten to the point where Len believes Joe has noticed. He’s not looking forward to that talk… but he’s out of his depth, and maybe it will help, in the end.

“You could’ve gone as friends,” Shawna says softly as she hooks her hand over Len’s elbow. He leads her to the car – Joe allowed him to borrow his vintage Lincoln tonight and Len feels on top of the world when he’s behind the wheel.

“I don’t want to give him false hopes,” he mumbles – he can’t forget the look Barry had on his face when Len came home and announced that he was taking Shawna to prom. There was something so broken, so vulnerable and  _hurt_  in Barry’s eyes that all Len wanted was to go to him and wrap him up in a hug. Barry was right – it  _is_  awkward between them now, has been for months. It’s not that they don’t do stuff together: they still go running together, they still laugh about stupid shows and trade jokes and teasing barbs. They still hug, occasionally, brush against each other and kick each other’s shins… but Len’s always wondering if he’s not doing too much, if he should withdraw and ignore how much he wants to be near Barry because the kid might take it the wrong way. He feels like an asshole half the time, for not giving Barry space, for not giving him the distance needed to heal. Maybe that’s why he chose he university furthest from here when he got his pick of scholarships… he feels bad for leaving Lisa here, but Joe’s more of a father to them than their own has ever been, so he’s confident she will do well here, with Joe and Iris and Barry. And he needs to go, before he does something stupid like giving in to Barry’s pleading, wishful looks.

Shawna’s a good dancer and he’s actually having fun, so he manages to forget everything for a couple of hours. When the prom’s over, they drive around for a while, neither of them feeling like going home yet; they end up in the middle of nowhere, at the edge of the road that overlooks the sparkling lights of the city. They talk, sitting on the hood of the car, and as he listens to Shawna worry about whether or not she’ll be able to make it all the way through med school, Len thinks that maybe, in the end, they will be alright.

He comes home at almost two in the morning. He tiptoes through the house, well aware of how badly he’s broken the curfew, but Joe doesn’t jump out at him from anywhere, so Len believes he got a pass this one time. Joe’s like that – he’ll set up rules that are kind of strict, but as long as his trust isn’t abused, he’ll give them a bit of a leeway here and there, on important occasions.

Len thinks he’ll manage to drop to his bed and just go to sleep, when he hears more than sees movement on Barry’s side of the room.

“Len?” the kid asks, in that high-pitched, strangled whisper that indicates he’s trying not to speak loudly, not out of concern for anyone’s sleep, but because if he spoke any louder he’d cry.

Len’s heart twists in his chest and he swallows against the painful knot in his throat.

  
“Yeah?”

  
“Did you…” Barry starts, and they both know where that question is supposed to go, even if the words that he forces out of his mouth in the end are different. “…did you have fun?”

“It was alright,” Len shrugs. He’s not quite sure how he ends up sitting on Barry’s bed, but the kid immediately shifts closer. They sit there, in the dark, backs pressed against the wall and shoulders touching, for a couple of minutes.

  
“You stink,” Barry says, and Len chuckles quietly, eyes adjusting until he can make out the outline of Barry’s body, sweatshirt and pajama pants and tousled hair. It would be so easy to make him happy… Len wonders, for the millionth time, if he doesn’t owe it to both of them to try. Once again, it’s just the thought of breaking Barry’s heart completely that stops him: and he knows he would. He couldn’t pretend long-term, he couldn’t lie, not to Barry… it would just end up in more pain for both of them. Maybe when he leaves, it will give them both the time to figure it all out, maybe Barry will find someone else… the thought hurts a little bit, but Len’s already made peace with his awful, misplaced jealousy.

“Got any photos?” Barry asks, breaking the silence again, and Len chuckles as he blindly reaches to pat Barry’s leg.

  
“Tomorrow, kid. I’m dying on my feet.”

He hauls himself to his own bed, dropping the jacket over the chair before he falls face-first onto his pillow – but he can hear Barry shifting restlessly for a long time after he starts pretending he’s asleep.

……………….

Lisa hugs him and tells him to be safe. That’s it – no big drama, no tears, no promises to call. She’s been getting more and more independent in the past couple of years, and Len can see the woman she will become. She’s fourteen and already so fierce, so strong, so amazing: Len doesn’t feel like he needs to tell anyone to take care of her, because Lisa, exactly as she is now, can take the best care of herself. He has no doubt that he will miss her like crazy, but she’s handling his departure well, and it gives him hope that she’ll be just fine without her older brother watching her every step. It’s been a while since he felt he had to do that, anyway.

It’s Barry he’s worried about more: Barry who waits for him in the room that is still theirs, for the last couple of minutes, the room that now really only holds one last box of Len’s belongings. He left it up there on purpose, and he has a feeling that Joe, Iris and Lisa know; but he couldn’t deal with saying goodbye to Barry in front of all of them. He couldn’t deal with Barry’s feelings where they could see and hear, Barry’s feelings that are once again out there for everyone to see, dripping down his cheeks in salty trails.

  
He’s sitting on Len’s bed, as if he’s worried that if he sits ten feet away on his own bed, Len will grab his books and leave without saying goodbye. Or maybe he thinks that if he holds the books hostage, Len will have to stay. He jumps up when Len enters the room, waits for Len to come closer, and then just collapses into his arms. Len has no other option but to gather the kid in a tight hug. He doesn’t want to let go, not really; he can’t imagine sharing his room with some random stranger in his new dorm, can’t imagine waking up and Barry  _not being there_. It’s probably for the best, for Barry, but Len still hates it.

“I hate that you’re leaving,” Barry voices the same sentiment and Len wants to laugh. They’ve been so weirdly attuned to each other for years, hating the same TV shows, liking the same jokes, bickering over who gets to eat the last slice of pumpkin pie and trying to push their peas to Lisa. Feeling each other’s sadness, laughing just because the other was sniggering over something… Len hates that the only thing he could not feel in return is the only thing that matters in the end.

  
“I’ll miss you,” he says, even though he knows that he shouldn’t. Barry’s chuckle goes all wet and choked, and Len strokes his hair as the kid clutches at Len’s shirt.

  
“This would be easier if I could just start getting over you,” he admits, and Len’s heart skips a beat. This is the first time they openly spoke about Barry’s feelings ever since that fateful Valentine’s, and it’s breaking Len that a year and a half later, he still has no answers that could actually help.

  
“Should’ve started that some time ago,” he says quietly, against Barry’s temple, but it’s not a reprimand. Feelings suck, and just because one wants to deal with them doesn’t mean it’s so easy to do it.

Barry pulls back and winces:

  
“I can’t. I just… I know I shouldn’t do this, it’s not fair to you, I just… I need to say it. And… I need to hear you tell me ‘no’. Can you do that for me?”

His eyes shine with the tears smudged all over his face, and fuck, he probably doesn’t know how hard it is for Len to keep his ‘no’ in mind, much less to say it out loud… but this is what Barry needs, and Len is prepared to do his best, even though it feels like an elephant is sitting on his goddamn chest.

  
He nods, and Barry draws a deep breath. His hand strays to Len’s fingers, squeezing lightly as he speaks:

  
“Len… I’m glad I got to meet you. You’re incredible, and I don’t know how my life would have gone if it hadn’t been you in this room when I first arrived. I don’t know how I would have survived without you here. You’ve always protected me, and took care of me, you were there for me whenever I needed you – and you made  _me_  feel needed too. I don’t know when I fell in love with you, but I can’t let you leave without saying it, at least once, even though I know you don’t feel that way about me.”

Len’s first instinct, clawing at his chest, is to scream that he does – he’s got no idea what it feels like to be in love, but he knows that the urgent need to keep Barry safe forever, to keep taking care of him until his last breath, is what love must feel like. He wishes he could just flip a switch that would make him want to kiss Barry and feel all those things people do in the movies, but if that switch exists, Len hasn’t found his yet, and he’s not going to let Barry wait on the slim chance that he will discover it one day.

He knows that if he says ‘no’ in this moment, Barry’s going to do exactly what he should – grieve for a little while and then move on, find someone who can give him everything like he deserves. Len hates the jealousy that flares up in his chest at the thought: but he also knows that he will never be quite enough for this brilliant, bright kid who is one damn giant beacon of love and deserves something more than what Len has to offer with his brother-like affection.

“Thank you,” he forces out and steps back, curls his arms around the box with books to give him something to do (something to hold). When he looks at Barry again, his heart is a little bit harder around the edges, but it’s all for the best. “Thank you for the honesty. You’re my best friend, kid – you’ll have that as long as you want it. But I’ll never be what you want me to be.”

Barry nods quickly, but he can’t quite push back the tears that well up in his eyes again, or the choked-off sound in his throat. Len turns away – there’s nothing more he can say or do to make this easy.

Six months later, Barry sends him a selfie of him and some girl – her name’s Patty, she’s beautiful and obviously very much into Barry, and Len tries his best not to feel like something just died in his chest. He sends back a thumbs-up emoji and texts Barry that he should be careful because Len refuses to babysit if Barry thinks with his dick and gets his new girlfriend pregnant. Barry tells him he’s an asshole, and it makes Len smile a little, even though his ribs still hurt, like there’s too much and too little inside of his chest, all at once.

He gets to meet her when he comes home for Lisa’s birthday during the summer. Patty’s everything he would’ve ever wished for Barry’s girlfriend, bright and beautiful and smart, with exactly that kind of nerdy sort of humor and occasional flailing that Barry himself has. Len smiles and shakes her hand and makes a few cracks that leave both Barry and Patty blushing and exchanging blissful, embarrassed looks – it’s his responsibility as an older brother to give them a bit of a hard time and a lot of support, but he has to remind himself that he was the one who willingly accepted the role of a brother in Barry’s life.

When Lisa secretly squeezes his hand under the table once they’re seated for dinner, Len squeezes back, because in the end, she always knew him the best.

…………

He ends up babysitting anyway. Thankfully, by the time he’s left alone with his sort-of-nephew, looking at Barry’s huge grin on the wedding pictures doesn’t hurt quite as much.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my [tumblr.](http://pheuthe.tumblr.com/)


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